Chapter 20: Aloe vera
Castiel stared at the amber liquid in his glass for a serious moment before taking a sip. He watched the scotch swish around in the tumbler. He hadn't felt comfortable leaving Dean and Sam on their own. Still, he'd respected the look that Dean had shot him when he'd supported Sam out of the car. This was none of his business. At least, not at the moment. More than likely his official involvement wouldn't end here. Castiel would see them again at least professionally. He'd only wished to have been able to provide Dean more comfort. Something to hold onto. Cas struggled against the impulse to check his phone to see if Dean's had the chance yet to settle down for the night. Maybe he would call.
Castiel leaned forward and grabbed his remote off the table; the TV buzzed on with a loud popping noise following it. He changed the channel almost immediately. He'd left it on the news as was customary but at the moment he wasn't inserted in more carnage. Zachariah and Sam had made his head hurt and his heart ache enough already.
It didn't take Castiel long to flip back to the channel he'd been on when his mind had finally registered what was playing on the news.
"An apartment complex in Woodbridge has caught fire..."
Cas leaned forward and let the remote slip from his hand and into the crevice between his thighs. Woodbridge was a very large area, he reasoned with himself. The footage was only showing flames and close ups of the carnage. Burning wreckage didn't tell him anything. His palms felt clammy as he dug out his phone. His knuckles caught on the edge of his pant pocket and he yanked his hand out, scraping the skin, in frustration. While Castiel kept one eye on the screen he dialed Dean's number.
Why hadn't he put it on speedial already?
The phone rang until it hit voicemail. The camera angle pulled back and Dean's apartment came into view.
"No." Cas' face paled.
It was only his training in stressful situations that kept him from dropping his phone. Instead he squeezed it tightly and glared at the scotch he'd pulled out. He'd been lucky to only have taken a few sips. It meant he wouldn't have to break the law driving to Dean's. Castiel didn't bother tossing on his jacket, rumpled shirt threatening to cling to barely forming sweat stains. The only things he did grab were his badge and his gun. He slipped on a pair of ratty running shoes and barreled his way down the stairs. The elevator would take too long.
Once in his car he tried dialing Dean again, heart hammering in his ears. Dean wasn't picking up. If only he would pick up.
Only the fact that the road's were mostly clear kept him from digging out the detachable siren and turning it on. His tires screeched as he took turns sharply; the car protesting at his handling of it. It wasn't made for this.
Bright lights flickered against the evening sky as he approached the apartment building. The fire was only smoldering now and the firefighters were putting out the last of the flames. He drove straight towards the blockade and stepped out of the car. His hand was already at his badge as a uniformed officer walked over to him with his hands outstretched.
"I'm sorry sir you can't-"
Castiel flashed his badge. "FBI." He didn't even wait for a response as he ducked underneath the police tape and marched towards the ambulances. Even panicked, and nearly out of his mind with worry, he knew better than to go running into burning buildings without a fire suite. Though he'd been tempted to. The sirens finally turned off and silence was deafening, nearly ominous. Even the loud crackle of the fire had faded to nearly nothing. The first ambulance didn't show any occupants and the second only had an older woman, clutching to a shaking pile of fur. No Winchesters. Cas tried to dial Dean again, stomach twisting into knots when once more he received no answer. If they weren't in the emergency vehicles were they caught inside?
"Sir, may I help you?"
Cas nearly elbows the woman that had snuck up behind him but controlled the impulse. His nerves were strung tight. "I'm looking for either a Dean or Sam Winchester?"
The firefighter nodded at him and waved over one of the foremen. He watched as they looked down at a clipboard and fought not to go over to look for himself. They knew what they were doing. A few moments later the woman jogged over to him. "Winchester's right?"
"Yes ma'am."
"They're in the hospital." Cas tried not to show a reaction. "They were the first carted out. Preliminary canvasing shows that the origin of the fire was their apartment."
"Are they all right?"
"I don't have more to tell you. They've been sent to Sentara Potomac ER."
"Thank you." His tone was clipped as he turned around. A hand touched his shoulder. "What is it?" he snapped.
"Aren't you here to investigate?" the firefighter asked, pointing a thumb at the wreckage behind her, contused. He had flashed his badge, Dean was on his team, and technically there was a protocol for an FBI official to be involved on scene when another agent was the victim.
"I need to go inform my higher ups of the Winchester's location," Cas lied. Although it wouldn't be a lie for long. The Winchester's must not have hit the hospital yet if he hadn't gotten a call from the office. After the top brass at the office the next step would be the section chief and then him. As long as he eventually did talk to them it wasn't going to be a lie. At least, not one he was going to lose sleep over. The drive took longer than anticipated and his gut twisted. His phone had still not rung.
The hospital smelled more toxic than he remembered. He'd never had a problem with it before. He'd never been so hyper-actively aware of all the sick and injured people groaning in the hallways. Every time someone rushed past him with a stretcher, screaming at people to get out of the way, he felt light headed. The lights were bright and annoying. It gave him a headache. Castiel managed to push his way through the web of commotion to the ER desk. The badge made a loud slapping noise as he dropped it to the desk. "Dean Winchester."
The woman inspected his credentials carefully and he nearly ripped her head off. Who the hell would pretend to be an FBI agent?
She slid the leather wallet back to him and rolled back in her chair. Her eyes wandered around the stack of papers that still hadn't left the desk. There wasn't an attending physician for them yet. The woman pushed herself back and started typing away at the computer. Castiel nearly took the computer from her with how long she seemed to be taking.
"Let's see... Dean-" she drew out his name, "-Winchester, right?"
"Yes."
"Admitted for burns?" she continued to read through what little of the file had been updated. "He's in surgery right now."
"Burns?" Castiel leaned forward, elbows heavy on the counter top.
"Yes, according to the EMT him and another person, Sam Winchester, were caught in a fire at an apartment in Woodbridge?"
"I know that." The woman seemed taken aback by his tone. "How bad were the burns?"
"I don't know, there's no new update."
"Find one!"
"Sir-" he nearly interrupted her and she held up a slender, tanned hand. "I can not tell you anything else. With all due respect, agent, I can not give you information that I do not possess. If you would like to interrogate them you will have to wait until they are both out of surgery."
Castiel reigned in his temper as best he could. Anger rolled off of him in waves and people parted in front of him as he walked towards end of the hallway to find seating. A storm brewed underneath his skin as he politely glared at the nurse from the uncomfortable plastic chair. If he'd been in a clearer head space he would've known better than to try and blame her. She was just doing her job and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Perhaps the biggest difficulty for him was that the waiting game gave him plenty of time to think. More specifically; to imagine. His gut instinct told him that the fire had not been an accident; especially not so quickly after Sam's incident. A deliberate fire meant that it had been set to harm. Minor burns could generally be treated in a sterilized room. No surgery required. He imagined the bubbles and peeled flesh on Dean's body. He imagined the man wheezing and struggling for breath, trying to force it into his lungs through his smoke scorched throat.
"Agent Novak?"
His head snapped up and he was shocked to notice that most of the area had been cleared. Blearily he looked at the clock. A few hours had passed. How the hell had he lost that much time? His knees felt weak. Cas' breath hitched in his chest and he used the thin, metal arms of the chair to push himself up. "Yes?"
"If you would like to speak to them now the Winchester's are out of surgery."
"Are they coherent?" he asked, fearing the answer.
"Doctor Witten has cleared them for questioning, so I would assume so."
Castiel ignored her tone and simply took the piece of paper with both of their room numbers written on it. Although Dean would've appreciated him stopping by Sam's room to visit all he did was walk past it with a quick glance. He lingered long enough to see Sam breathing and alive, wincing as he sat on a bed. It didn't look that bad. He seemed to be intact. Encouraged by what he'd seen he marched a few more rooms down. The door had been left opened and he nearly tripped through it in his hurry. A startled Dean looked up at him before a weak grin crept onto his features. There were two tubes clipped to his nose and a mask covering the rest of his face. One of his arms was bandaged and the rest of his body was covered by a gown. Castiel felt his heart beat faster until it abruptly stopped.
"We gotta stop meeting like this." Dean's voice was muffled by the oxygen mask.
He stepped forward in a daze. Castiel felt cold. Logically he knew he had to have a pulse even though he could've sworn his heart would never start beating again. His chest felt too empty."What happened?" he swallowed as Dean winced. While Castiel didn't want him in pain he was desperately hoping it had just been a wince of pain, not because whatever had happened was so bad."You didn't answer your phone."
"Probably melted to the floor by now," Dean joked. He tried to sit up and cursed as his back rubbed against the pillow. His hospital gown slipped enough for Castiel to be able to see the bandages wrapping around his back.
"I leave you alone for five minutes," Castiel tried, voice hoarse. His fingers itched to reach out, to touch and make sure he was real. That he was alive.
"I know, I'm a troublemaker." Dean winked.
Castiel shook his head and leaned forward. His eyes burned and he glared at Dean angrily before looking behind him. There was no one in the doorway and the hallway seemed quiet. Quietly and gently, almost terrified to cause Dean more pain, he gave the oxygen mask a gentle peck. Dean's breath rattled underneath it and Cas had to hold his hands down to keep him from taking it off. For not having seen each other in so long this was an awful consolation prize.
"They filled you in already, right?"
Dean's hand wrapped around his as best it could. Castiel tried to control his expression. No, he hadn't been informed yet but he had an awful hunch. At the very least he wouldn't be lying to Dean when he shook his head. "No, I-uh." Cas looked to the side a little embarrassed. "I'm not here officially."
"Then how'd you get in?" Dean muffled out. They both knew for a fact that in cases of emergency like this only family was allowed through.
Castiel coughed and fought to keep a blush off of his face. "I may have... used my position."
Dean closed his eyes, sputtered and then laughed. The laughter turned into wheezing pretty quickly but it didn't stop his body from shaking on the bed in hysterics. When Dean opened his eyes they were glossed over. "Oh god, Cas. I'm a bad influence on you." Dean pulled down his face mask and reached up. Before Castiel could react, Dean had slid his fingers into the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck and started tugging. He went willingly as Dean maneuvered him around the mask and to his lips. Cas tried not to gasp, worried he would suck what little air Dean had in his lungs out. "Quit holding your breath," Dean mumbled against his lips, refusing to let Cas come closer until he relented.
Warm air spilled from his lips and across Dean's and he was rewarded for his good behavior. Dean pressed their mouths together and as he pulled away let his tongue drift across Cas' lower lip. "Missed me?"
Castiel wanted nothing than to dismiss Dean. His friend had been an ass and reckless and apparently didn't care that he'd nearly died. Even now Cas' heart hammered, the flames from the TV playing brightly in his mind. He should've been berating him, angry, ripping him to pieces on being reckless. Castiel told himself the only reason he was being so lenient with Dean was because he'd nearly lost him. At least, he'd thought he'd had; besides, he'd never been one for normal social ques anyway. "Dearly." Cas leaned back down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, pulling away as he heard someone approaching down the hall.
A nurse passed by their door, only glancing in briefly.
"How's Sam?"
"He's fine."
"Good." Dean paused and fiddled with the edges of the crinkly blanket draped over him. "It was Meg."
Dean apparently didn't have any problems making sure he had permission to share information first. Castiel's faced dropped and his heart plummeted into his stomach. Yes he'd had a hunch, yes the fire M.O. had been damning evidence in itself but...What little relief he'd garnered from Dean's lips and seeing him again drained down to the floor. He felt it race out of his body and a wave of fury overtake it, crashing over him and making his fists shake. For a moment Castiel couldn't feel anything but rage until Dean's hand brushed against his closed fists.
"Winchester?"
Dean and Castiel sprang apart. Well. Castiel moved backwards and Dean's elbow violently smacked against the railing, with a wince and a wave he beckoned the doctor in. "What's up?"
"We want to check on some of your injuries again. Now that you've been out of surgery for a few hours we need to see if the bandages will hold. You may even be able to go home in a few days."
"A few days?!" Dean moved in the bed, hands grasping at the bed railing.
"Dean, listen to the good doctor," Castiel chastised and moved out of the way. "I'll return shortly."
He let a fond smile pull at the edges of his lips as he listened to Dean fight passionately with his doctor. He didn't want to put the oxygen mask on and 'sure as hell' wasn't staying in the hospital for a few days. The amusement was short lived as he rounded a corner and found a stairwell to duck into. He let the door slide shut quietly and dug out his phone. Castiel's hands were shaking by the time he'd finished dialing Zachariah's number. He'd used the personal number too so that there could be no way for him to miss this.
"Safe and under control?!" Castiel hissed into the phone the second the ringing stopped.
"Castiel."
"Dean and Sam Winchester are in the hospital with severe burns." Castiel paced around the platform in the stairwell. "I have just spoken to Dean. Meg was there."
"Masters?" Zachariah's tone was light.
"Yes! The very same one that I believe I informed you was on that tape with Sam Winche-"
"Yes, yes, we got that memo. We are aware."
"You're aware?!" Castiel tried not to break his phone in his fist. "If you're so aware why are they in the hospital right now claiming that Meg Masters set fire to the apartment? That she'd tried to kill them!"
"Agent Novak." Castiel's mouth snapped shut at the tone. He'd worked himself into a huff and tried to control his breathing. He knew better than to talk to a superior that way. "We are aware of the situation."
"We should've hunted down Meg months ago."
"Hindsight is 20/20." Cas' fingers clenched into his thigh. If he'd had longer nails he might've scratched through the fabric of his pants and scraped his skin. "Now as a courtesy, I like you Castiel, I will give you the opportunity to hang up and I will ignore this blatant subordination."
Castiel pulled the phone away from his hand, intent on throwing it. His heart threw itself against his ribs as he breathed in deeply. A loud constant beep interrupted his thoughts and he lowered his phone back down. Luckily Zachariah had hung up for him. At least it had saved his phone.
"Next time I'll leave her bleeding on the floor," he promised himself as he sank onto the top step. He leaned against his knees and put his phone down to the ground. It wouldn't be wise if he felt another itch to throw the damn thing. "She'll die for this."
Castiel nearly threw his phone on principal anyway when it rang again. The section chief had finally gotten news of Dean's hospitalization.
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Dean rolled his eyes as the doctor put his oxygen mask back on. He was breathing just fine and it was just getting in the way. He'd be taking it off the second the doctor left anyway. After checking his bandages, satisfied with the work, he'd informed him that he'd be back with the next round of medication. Dean was left alone in the hospital room. He stared at the ceiling and wondered when his life had gotten so damn complicated. The amount of times he'd found himself hospitalized was getting ridiculous. He struggled to sit up a little more and glared at the new plastic tube the doctor had given him. Morphine.
At least Sam was all right. That was a thought he was going to cling to and focus on. It wouldn't do him any good to worry about anything else while he was immobile. He smiled a little to himself as he recounted the ambulance trip. Some of Sam's hair had been singed even though Dean had done his best to shelter his younger brother with his own body. He'd told him, wheezing heavily and groaning that there was a silver lining to the situation. He'd at least get to cut that ridiculous mane now. Sam had attempted to swat at him with his bandaged hand. 'That's not funny, Dean'. 'It's a little funny.'
Dean turned his head to stare out the open hospital door, waiting for Cas to come back. He ripped the oxygen mask off and touched his fingertips to his lips. A soft 'huh' flitted out of his mouth and he let himself get comfortable in the bed. Well, as comfortable as you could in a hospital bed. He'd intended on calling Cas the second he could but he'd had to drop his phone. Flames had licked up his hand as they'd taken off behind Meg and he'd been forced to drop the phone. It was kind of a shame, he'd liked that one.
A dark thought crept through his mind he re-played the last few scenes. How the hell did Meg get out and why wasn't it national news? Hell, why hadn't they been informed of it? They were the FBI weren't they? He could maybe understand that he was a little close to the situation, Sam's kidnapping and all, but how the hell had Cas not known? The shock and anger in Castiel's face when Dean had let it slip had eased some of the anxiety he had. He'd appeared surprised and furious which implied that he hadn't known either. Dean wasn't sure how he would've reacted if Cas had known and not warned them. They were closer than some dumb protocol, right?
He thumbed his lip again and grinned a little. Despite the seriousness of the situation Cas was really hot when he was angry. Of course he'd seen a bit of the that burning force in the argument that had started all of this, heat churned low in his belly as he thought of it, but he'd yet to see Cas so ready to deck someone. As long as it wasn't directed at him he was down with it. The best part would be teasing and licking the tension out of him afterward. Maybe he'd invite him over for a- Dean sighed and let his head slam back into the pillow. He didn't want to think about their place now. They'd have to find a new apartment. Maybe one that was underwater and 100% fireproof? The loss of the apartment wasn't exactly that big of a deal. Furniture could be replaced and they had insurance. Dean felt a tightness begin to knot together in his chest as he thought about his personal items.
They'd probably lost all of their family pictures.
"The CIA and FBI have been filled in."
Dean turned his head towards the door. He frowned at how Cas' looked. He'd only been gone a few minutes and somehow within that time all the energy had drained out of him. It almost looked like there were dark, haunted circles forming under his eyes. "They'll want to question you and your brother at some point." Cas wasn't even fully staring at him. His eyes were as focused as ever and he was 'looking' at Dean, but there's no recognition there. It was almost like he as staring through him and into the wall or seeing something else in his place.
Dean reached out his hand from underneath the sheets and wiggled his fingers. Cas' eyes flitted to it and for a moment his expression softened. Dean turned his palm up, accepting the gentle brush of Cas' own fingers to his. "We'll get that bitch," Dean promised. He leaned over further to grab a part of Cas' rumpled shirt, dragging him forward. "For now, you gotta relax, okay? I'm fine, Sam's fine."
"Dean-"
"I'm tired. A lot of shit's gone down and I just wanna sleep." Castiel frowned at him and he barreled forward. "I sure as hell ain't sleeping here. You want to do something useful? Find me a doctor and get me my damn release papers. I'll grab Sam and find somewhere to go."
"That won't be necessary."
"Cas, look. I know you want me to be all safe and shit but my injuries aren't bad enough-"
"No, Dean." Castiel sighed, a look of surrender etched into his features. He shook his head softly and the edge of his lip quirked up. "I have sufficient space."
"What?" Dean's brain struggled to catch up with the conversation. Cas was offering them a place to stay. His thoughts immediately turned dirty and then panicked. Sam would be with them and what if someone found out about them? Hadn't Bobby warned them about something like this? "But wouldn't that look bad?" Dean wanted to stapple his mouth shut. This was one thing he shouldn't be talking himself out of. "Your subordinate and his supe-"
"I don't particularly care at the moment." Dean snapped his mouth shut and took a good look into Cas' eyes. He gulped and felt a zing through his sternum. Cas' gaze was focused completely on him and the determination in it made him feel funny things. "Sam?"
"I have a spare bedroom and a couch. You may divy up sleeping arrangements as you wish." Dean tried to hide his blush. The spare bedroom was good, he and Sam could share or he could take the couch, but his mind had immediately gone to being swaddled up in Cas' bed. His brother would ask too many questions; it would be impossible. "I can even offer up my own bed if you and your brother can not share. I understand there could be sleeping arrangement issues or I would offer to share."
Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to kick him out of his own bed. "Look-Cas. It's not like I want to hide us or anything- I've missed touching you but-" before he could ramble further Castiel had leaned down and shut him up with his lips.
"It's fine, Dean." Castiel pressed another kiss to his mouth when Dean tried to protest again. "I'll be waiting for you in the lobby once you've been discharged."
When Dean would recount the memory in his mind later he would omit the whine that passed his lip at the loss of contact. It wasn't long before a doctor had come in, disgruntled and with a lecture ready, as he filled out his paperwork. He'd even managed to find some spare clothing. His old stuff had been taken away. Dean knocked on Sam's door with a second set of release paperwork.
"No fair," Dean said as Sam opened the door. Most of his clothing had been undamaged. Other than some parts of hair which still needed to be chopped off Sam had retained only minor injuries. His arm was bandaged and there was a gauze over the part of his neck where his hair was singed.
Sam smiled ruefully and shrugged. "Your own fault, could've just let me do my own running instead of trying to cover me."
"That doesn't sound grateful at all," Dean shot back, pressing the paperwork into Sam's hand.
"Release papers?"
"Yeah. We're ditching, and it looks like you're healthy enough to leave."
Sam's face paled and his breathing sped up, thinking of their apartment. "I thought we were staying here? It's not like we have any place to go. In case you forgot our -"
"Apartment burned down, yeah yeah. I was there Sam. We're staying with Cas."
"Cas?" Sam's eyebrows scrunched together and he frowned. "Cas as in boss Cas? As in FBI agent Castiel Novak?"
"No Sam, Cas the midget stripper."
"I didn't know that was your type-" the comment earned Sam a smack on the arm. "Is that a good idea?"
Dean shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "There's no protocol against it and he says he's got the room. It's better than staying here or in some crap motel for the night anyway."
Sam finished signing his part of the paperwork and nodded. "Right, and seeing as he's an agent I'm sure he's well equipped if-" Sam swallowed, "-if Meg comes back."
"I think she's done for the night, buddy," Dean said putting a large hand on Sam's shoulder and rubbing his thumb across it.
"So we ready to go?"
"Yeah, Cas is waiting in the lobby. He's got everything set up and he's handling the FBI and the fire issues."
"That's good. I don't think I could do any of that right now." Sam shuffled through the door. "It's like we have our very own guardian angel or some shit."
"Yeah," Dean stared at his brother's back for a moment before following. "An angel."
Cas was waiting for them in the lobby as promised and they didn't speak much as they walked out to the car. Sam thanked him for his hospitality, which he brushed off, and they headed towards his apartment. Dean had only seen it from the outside, briefly, before, and was excited to see the inside. Despite his protest Cas helped them carry what little belongings they had into the elevator and up to the apartment.
He whistled softly once they made it inside.
"Pretty swanky," Dean said as he looked around. The floors were a dark hardwood and all of the surfaces a black or white marble. There was a balcony with sliding glass doors and a small set up outside. The apartment itself wasn't overly huge, the kitchen and living room areas connecting like most places did. There were two doors, one that was open and led to what he assumed was Cas' room (judging by the rumpled bed sheets) and a closed one towards the left.
"Would you mind if I used your shower?"
Castiel turned to Sam and pointed him towards the closed door. Each bedroom had it's own shower. Cas explained to Dean that he liked his privacy. It meant that the guest room was significantly smaller, didn't have a closet, and the heater was in his own shower, but he didn't like sharing. Dean stood in the middle of the entryway and looked around as Cas fetched Sam some towels. He'd always figured that Cas' place would be more immaculate. Neat freak clean. It eased him to find that the few magazines he had on the coffee table were strewn about. The remote control was slowly disappearing into the couch cushions. There was a corner of a carpet overturned where the coffee table was and there seemed to be no particular organization in the kitchen. He'd been worried that he'd feel out of place in Cas' home. He held such a commanding presence, very sharp and controlled. He felt out of breath just being near Cas he wasn't sure what he would've done if he'd been boxed in by that same feeling.
"Have you eaten?"
"Huh?" Dean looked up as Cas handed him his own towel.
"Are you hungry?"
Dean's stomach growled on cue. They actually hadn't eaten anything all day. He'd been planning on making something once they'd gotten home. Funny how worry and adrenaline overrode signals from the body. Cas beckoned him into the kitchen.
"I don't have much, we could order out. It's what I usually do," Cas admitted as he looked through his fridge.
"Hell no." Dean stepped forward, using his hip to nudge Cas out of the way. "I'm cooking."
"Dean, I can't make you do that. I wont let you do that. You are injured and I'm trying to take care of you."
"Cooking isn't going to kill me," Dean bit back as he looked through Cas' fridge. Most of it was stuff he could just stick in the microwave but he wasn't in the mood for that. He put in a mental reminder that he'd have to take Cas grocery shopping sometime soon. Some of this stuff seemed completely out of date and unhealthy. "Look, you're letting us stay here when we could've been stranded at the hospital or some dingy motel." Cas pursed his lips together. Dean grinned, well aware that he would've been happier if the Winchester's had just stayed at the hospital. "Let me do this. I enjoy doing it and I feel like I gotta pull my weight."
"Dean," Cas' eyes softened and Dean had to look away. Whatever the hell was going to come out of his mouth would be schmoopy as fuck. "You already have too much weight on your shoulders."
"Cas, it's a small slapped together dinner, not the Last Supper." Dean smiled when he heard Cas chuckle a little. He turned his eyes back to him and stepped closer. He tilted his head towards the guest room door and stopped speaking. He listened intently to make sure that the shower had been turned on before putting his hands on Cas' hips and inching close. "Now, how about you find me a change of clothes for after my shower, these hospital hand me downs are gross, and let me get to cooking?"
Dean held their eyes together, fighting off the uncomfortable intimate feeling by turning it into a staring match instead of a 'moment'. He grinned when Cas dropped his head, shrugging his shoulders, defeated. "As you wish, whatever you need." Dean blushed and swatted at Cas' chest as he dropped a kiss the side of his cheek.
"Enough, enough. Jesus," Dean mumbled. He shrugged his shoulders and coughed loudly. He wasn't going to feel right for weeks and almost felt like running his hand over his junk just to make sure it was still there.
Cas merely smiled at him and Dean resisted the urge to stick his tongue out. He was an adult.
Castiel disappeared into his room and Dean went back to exploring Cas' kitchen. He wasn't surprised at how clean it was. He'd had a hunch that Cas' wasn't much of a cook but half the stuff looked like it'd never been used. The stove was without a single stain and even the oven looked like it had just been bought. After awhile he finally found an abandoned package of spaghetti in the back of Cas' pantry. The fridge yielded him slices of salami, some cheese, and a can of tomato sauce. Dean shrugged and set the items out, he'd worked with less.
Before he could get any serious cooking started a phone started ringing. Dean reached into his pant pockets, forgetting for a moment that his was burnt to a crisp and that he wasn't even wearing his own clothes. He poured the spaghetti into the boiling water and listened to the phone ring for a moment before wandering off to find it. He found the answering machine and read the caller ID on it.
"Hey Cas!" A muffled 'hmm' came from somewhere in the apartment. "Bobby's calling!"
"Could you take that for me?"
Dean shrugged and picked up the phone. "What's up, Bobby?"
"Dean?"
Dean smiled and wandered back into the kitchen to continue cooking. He started cutting up slices of cheese to melt into the sauce. "The one and only."
"There a reason you're answering Cas' phone and not in the hospital?"
"Playing secretary." Dean spread butter into a pan he'd fished out. "I'm fine."
"Right. I just got a call from the head office saying your apartment burned down, and you're 'fine'."
"Just dandy, so what can I do for ya?"
Bobby sighed. "Well I guess one of my questions is answered. They didn't give us that many details on whether or not your sorry asses even made it out of the burning building alive."
"We did." Dean ignored the way his hand trembled a little as the butter melted and the smell of burning inched up his nose. He swiftly turned down the heat a little and wondered why he hadn't gone for the oil. "And cleared and good to go."
"We haven't gotten any papers so I doubt that's the case."
"Well I'm fine, Sam's fine," Dean tasted a piece of the cheese to make sure it was still good. "And we've got work to do."
"You're bull-headed."
"Why thank you Bobby, and here I thought I was just stubborn."
"What happened anyway?"
"Arson."
"Arson?"
Dean didn't ponder for too long before sharing what had happened. He kept the details of Azazel and Sam's disappearance to himself but he felt the rest was just impersonal enough to share. After all, Bobby was turning into a fast friend, kind of a mentor, and if he wanted to share what the hell happened to him protocol be damned. Besides, it wasn't like anyone had told him not to.
"Meg?" Dean felt his shoulder's relax at Bobby's surprised tone. He hadn't realized just how much he'd been expecting some gigantic conspiracy. "How the hell did she get out of jail?"
"Dunno. She just showed up, got herself a nice new haircut, raved about me sending her to 'Hell' and then torched the place."
"Does Novak know?"
Dean cut the salami into strips and placed them into the pan to fry a little. "Yeah, first person I saw actually." Dean smiled to himself. "He was at the hospital. Said he called the CIA and shit so whenever they call back I guess we'll know how the hell they fucked this one up."
"Damn it," Bobby cursed with a soft sigh. "And here I was hoping for smoother sailing."
"You and me both. Kinda wish I could take off and fry her ass but I don't think that's in the cards for me."
"You'll probably be waiting for awhile, Dean. Bureaucrats don't often authorize man-hunts. They're messy and they make headlines and no one wants panic in the nation."
"Panic in the nation. Right. Me and my brother are target #1 for a psycho bitch and they're worried about a few newspapers."
"There's power in politics, Dean." There was a small pause. "Well, seeing as you're not comatose or dead I suppose that's all I needed to know. I'm sure top brass will give Castiel a call in the morning about your status as an active agent." Dean tried to protest. He was planning on going into work no matter what he was friggin' cleared for. "And Dean-"
"What?"
"Behave yourself."
"I can't promise anything," Dean shot back before he could stop himself. He really should've just glued his mouth shut a long time ago. From the tone in Bobby's voice he'd figured out that they weren't just staying there for a little bit to catch up. He was glad that Bobby hadn't asked specifically about where he'd been planing on staying. Obviously he wasn't at the hospital but he could've just dropped by for information at Cas' before going to a motel. Dean sighed and rubbed at his belly for a moment as it clenched uncomfortably, maybe it had been a bad idea to accept the invitation. He could argue that they were just friends, of course. It wasn't like anyone threw a hissy fit if Pamela decided to go eat dinner at Bobby's or Ellens and crash. He was over-analyzing things and Bobby would've warned him if he'd taken a step too far. Dean let the phone call end and put the phone aside, pouring in the tomato sauce and mixing in the slices of cheese before putting a lid over it.
"What did Agent Singer need?"
Dean turned around to see Cas cradling a few sets of clothing. "Hadn't heard from you so he took a preemptive step. Just got a call about the fire at the office."
Castiel set the clothes he'd gathered aside on the counter and nodded gravely. Dean shook his head lightly and rolled his eyes; he shuffled closer to him. He glanced at Sam's door. The shower was still going strong. "Apparently I need clearance and shit, again, got get back to work. What's that about?" Dean linked his fingers into Cas' belt loops, tugging him closer.
"You're not going to work tomorrow," Cas insisted, eyes boring into Dean's.
"That's what you think," Dean shot back, angling near and rubbing his thumbs across the waistband of Cas' slacks.
"It's what I know. You may not feel anything now but your system is running high with morphine," Cas closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into the touch. Dean smirked. He put a little bit more pressure into his touch. "You have just left the hospital, against all advice, and you will not be put in the field again until you can operate at full capacity."
"I think I'm plenty at full capacity," Dean teased. He dragged his fingers out of the belt loops and splayed his hands across Cas' waist. He teased the rumpled shirt out from underneath his belt and let his fingers dip into the small dips that his hips created.
"Dean Winchester."
"Yes?" He smirked and wiggled his fingers below the waistline.
Before Cas could respond the apartment grew suddenly quieter. Dean sighed and cursed mentally in his head. The shower had been turned off. He backed away, grumpy and a little horny, turning back to the food. The rational part of him told him that it was a good thing that Sam was done with his shower. They hadn't managed to get very far and other than feeling a little teased he wasn't visibly erect or too flustered. This was something he could easily come down from without repercussions. It was something he could hide from his brother.
"I guess it's my turn," Dean said as he lifted the lid off of the sauce pan. He stirred it for a moment before turning to Cas. "Think you can handle stirring without me?"
Castiel frowned at him and yanked his button up down, trying to cover the front of his slacks. Dean smirked and moved forward, a twinkle in his eye as his hand brushed over Cas' knuckles. "It's easy, keep it on low heat and just don't let it sit. When the cheese is melted it's done."
Cas huffed and gently moved him aside. Dean laughed as he took the wooden spoon and started to the methodically stir the sauce. He grabbed the spare set of clothing, noticing that there was a set for Sam in there as well, before heading towards the guest room. He knocked on the door and barged in, not caring much for Sam's privacy. They'd lived together for far too long. "Cas got you some clothes?"
"Good, thanks," Sam mumbled as he reached out to grab them from Dean. He'd taken his bandages off and Dean inspected the damage. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as he'd expected. Though he knew from experience that just because it looked like a nasty sunburn didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. He hadn't taken a look at his own yet but at least Sam's weren't so bad.
"Food's about to be up, I left Cas to finish out," Dean said as he entered the bathroom. He flicked the fan on, he didn't understand why Sam showered without it, and watched some of the steam that had collected slip into the vent. He dropped his clothes onto the counter and slowly began undressing. His body seemed to groan as he tried to stretch to peel his shirt off. It took a few tries before he had figured out how to do it without pulling at the bandages too hard. The pain meds were probably wearing off.
Dean wiped away at the steam in the mirror and winced as he looked at how much of him was bandaged. He wiggled out of his jeans and stripped out of his boxers before starting to work on removing the gauze. His arm was first and he hissed a little as the tape peeled off of the edges of his skin. The burn itself didn't look bad, skirting the line between a first and second degree burn. Nothing too bad. He turned around and started to pick at the tape holding the bandages across his back. Trying not to think too much of what he was doing he picked and pulled at the gauze until it fell halfway down his back. He reached underneath and yanked the rest of it off. He took a quick look over his shoulder to asses the damage and grit his teeth.
While his arm hadn't been much to worry about this one was likely to leave scars. It hadn't started to blister too badly yet but it was clear where worst of the damage was. His shoulder blade was bright red and angry with black splotches throughout it. There was a yellowing around some of the torn flesh and as it crept across his back and down the color lessened. Dean moved his shoulders and flexed watching in morbid fascination as his damaged skin slid over his bones. The doctor hadn't mentioned anything about a skin graft which meant it was a minor third degree. It would heal as long as he got his tetanus shots and tried not to fuck with it too much. Dean got into the shower, turning the heat down and trying to make sure he didn't get too much water down his back. He'd have to wash without soaps but as long as his hair didn't smell like soot he'd be fine.
Dean cursed realizing he'd have to sleep on his stomach. There was no way that he could lay down on this. He also hated the fact that Cas was probably right. There was no way he was going into work until it had healed a little more. Handling a gun would be problematic and it was unlikely that he'd be doing jumping jacks anytime soon let alone chasing bad guys. It wasn't something he would concede to Castiel though. He was smug enough on his own.
Thinking of Cas made him hurry his brief shower. He'd nearly forgotten in his examination of his wounds that he'd left Cas and Sam alone in the same room. They hadn't really had much interaction since this whole thing had started and he wasn't sure how they'd do on their own. It wasn't like he thought they'd hate each other but he worried about what conversation topics might come up.
Dean left off putting on any new bandages or a shirt and simply slipped into the sweatpants he'd been given.
His worries proved to be pointless as he stepped out of the guest bedroom to silence. Cas was still diligently stirring the pasta sauce and Sam was sitting on the couch, body drawn in and the lights from the TV flickering over his face.
"This isn't depressing at all," he said as he strode forward, eying Sam.
"Shut u-" Sam's retort fell short as he noticed the state of Dean's skin. "Dean-"
"It's not that bad." Dean sighed wishing he'd actually put a shirt on, but he knew better than to put cotton onto an open wound. It would dry into his blood and be hell to rip back off. He'd have to get Cas to bandage him up again. He'd probably do it with less sobbing and tears than Sam.
"Not that bad? Dean thats-"
"Not even covering most of my body. It's just one bad area and that's it," he ignored Sam and marched into the kitchen, wincing a little. The morphine was definitely wearing off. "Looks good," Dean commented over Cas' shoulder. At least nothing smelled or appeared burnt.
"I'm afraid I don't cook very often," Cas mumbled a little morose. Dean ignored the tone in his voice knowing it had nothing to do with the actual cooking. He'd noticed Cas glance at him when he'd stepped out of the room. It wouldn't surprise him if he felt the same way as Sam about Dean's burns. At least he knew better than to comment on them.
"Try not ever," Dean chuckled, moving around him in the kitchen. "I swear it's like you've never even been in the kitchen before. I think the only thing I found in here that was used was a cup and a plate."
Cas shrugged, his shoulders tight, refusing to look up at Dean. "I spend most of my time at the office."
Dean held in a sigh and moved forward. He glanced at his brother whose eyes were glued to the TV screen. He kept a close eye on Sam and reached his non-burnt arm forward and trailed his fingers across Cas' lower back. Cas relaxed a little although his expression didn't brighten. "Help me wrap up my back?" Dean offered, voice low. It was about as much as he was willing to do for a compromise. He wasn't about to let himself be coddled but maybe it would help for Cas to do something active.
"Let me get the gauze," Cas said as he moved away from the stove. His expression was guarded. Dean took over cooking and tasted the sauce, he added a few more spices before he was satisfied.
He let Cas bandage him up before they ate. Dean insisted of having the TV on and spent most of the meal facing it. The atmosphere in the room, now that all of the adrenaline had faded, was glum. It felt like someone had died. Sam headed to bed early and Dean told him that he was happier sleeping on the couch.
"You kick in your sleep," Dean joked and kept the plastic smile frozen on his mouth as Sam didn't respond.
"Are you sure the couch is sufficient?" Cas asked, clearing the plates away.
"Yeah it's fine," Dean rolled his shoulders, frowning at the scratch of the bandages. "Besides this way I know I won't roll over. Keep myself in place and not fuck with the wounds." Cas sighed and Dean pushed himself into his personal space. "Hey, if I need something I'll let you know."
"Dean, you are notoriously bad at taking care of yourself," Cas grumbled back.
"Am not. I'm an excellent example of self-sufficiency," Dean said with a grin. He angled his head so that Cas had no choice but to look at him. He could see Cas fighting not to smile at least a little at his antics. He was adorable and he knew it. It was his body and he was allowed to use it as a weapon if he wanted to.
"Fine," Castiel sighed. "Stay here," he commanded and Dean waited, confused in the kitchen as he disappeared. He came back quickly with a bottle of pills rattling in his palm.
"What? Hell no."
"Dean, I've seen the way you've been wincing all night. Take the pills." Cas shoved them into his hand. It was a nearly full bottle of hydrocodone.
"Sharing prescriptions, Cas? I hear that's illegal."
Cas glowered at him, "You would have your own if you weren't so stubborn."
"Fine fine," Dean sighed and screwed the bottle open. He took two pills with water and cringed as they crawled down his throat. He opened his mouth like he'd had to do with his mother whenever he'd been required to take pills or vitamins as a kid. He'd been notorious for spitting them back out. "There. Satisfied?"
Castiel smirked a little and Dean barely had time to prepare as Cas leaned forward, tongue licking along his lower lip before his teeth latched onto Dean's lower lip. He pulled back and pressed a kiss to his nose. "Very."
"Teasing dick," Dean muttered as Cas turned to head to his own room.
"Sladkih snov, Dean," Castiel replied with a small smile.
"What does that even mean?" Dean moaned out as the door to his room closed. The blankets and pillows had already been brought out to the couch and Dean let himself drop into it, rubbing the edge of his palm into his crotch. Cas and his damn Russian and his damn teasing. He supposed though, in all fairness, he'd started it. It didn't mean that Castiel was allowed to retaliate.
The couch was more comfortable than he expected it to be as he let himself sink fully in. Dean groaned lightly, trying not to think of Cas in the next room. How easy it would be to knock on the door and slip in. They hadn't had the chance to catch up yet. Dean's mind raced for a few hours, becoming hazy and clear in cycles as the hydrocodone worked its way through his system. At the very least he wasn't in pain but after the clock on the wall ticked to 3am Dean forced himself up. Later he would blame it on the pain medication and lack of sleep but delirium gave him bravery. He needed to see Cas. Dean crept to Cas' door, knocking a little before opening it.
He wasn't surprised to find Cas awake. Dean stood in the doorway quietly, waiting until Cas' eyes finally landed on him.
"You could have died."
Dean's felt his expression soften and moved forward, gently closing the door behind him. "But I didn't," Dean whispered into the dark room.
He inched forward until his legs hit the outline of Cas' bed. All he could hear for a moment was soft breathing; a gentle in and out. Without warning he abruptly felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist. Dean let it guide him onto the bed, the sheets were extremely soft, and it wasn't long until he was on his knees flush against Cas' side. There was a soft downward tug on his wrist. Dean chuckled a little and threw his knee over Cas' stomach, straddling him. He heard a sharp in take of breath underneath him and Dean tutte'd. "Just getting comfortable. Get your mind out of the gutter." He pulled his other knee back over so that he could lie sideways next to Castiel on his good shoulder. It didn't make any sense to lie on the burnt side.
He crawled closer, using one hand to tug at the blanket underneath him until he could slip his bare feet underneath it. Cas' body was warm and hot and he easily slid into the crevice between his torso and his outstretched arm. Dean lifted his hand and splayed his palm out on Castiel's chest. He ran his fingers gently over the muscle. "It's okay Cas." The hand around him tightened minutely. A hunch told him that if he hadn't been injured Cas probably would've wrapped him up in a few sheets and tucked him underneath him so that he could never leave. This would have to do. "I'm fine."
"You still could've-" Cas' voice caught in his throat. The words rumbled in his chest and Dean rubbed his hand up and down, chasing the vibrations. "-you can't do things like this, Dean."
"Come on, Cas, we're both agents." Dean mumbled. He tilted his head further into Cas. His lips rubbed against the cotton of his shirt.
"That's not the point, Dean." Cas turned his head and his body, forcing Dean's hand to drop into the tiny space left between them. "This- what happened-." A frustrated groan resonated in his throat. "You need to be more careful. This isn't some small time gang-" Dean protested. Most of the organization's he'd dealt with had international connections even "-it's bigger than that."
"Why don't you tell me how much bigger?" Dean challenged.
He knew that Cas and the team had been pulled in because of Azazel. He knew that whatever it was that Cas was working on with the CIA also had to have something to do with it. He'd been briefly filled in on Meg's history through what they'd found out as a group and the little bit of information he'd hunted down from Bela. He made a mental reminder to send her a very clear threat not to come near his family again. The C.O.L.T thing and the Lucifer business were about as far from clear to him as they could be. He had a few loosely connecting strings with names attached to them but that was it. If he was supposed to be fearing for his life, playing it safe, he damn sure wanted to know what cards the other team was holding.
Castiel made a frustrated noise and moved away from Dean, extracting himself. He sat up in bed and bunched his hair in his hand. "Dean, I can't."
"Sure you can," Dean protested. He moved to lean up on his elbow, staring at Cas in the moonlight. "It's just us."
"Dean-"
"Cas."
"Just please, promise me you'll-" Cas sighed and raised his head up to the ceiling. He stared for a moment before closing his eyes and swiveling his head towards Dean. "I'm not out to control your life," Cas started slowly, opening his eyes. "We're both agents and I recruited you because you were one of the best. Whatever this-" he motioned a hand between them "-is, has nothing to do with that. At all. So please don't-"
"Okay okay," Dean said raising his hand up. He didn't like where the conversation had been going. Sure he wanted information but it had started to sound like Cas was second guessing 'them'. He couldn't have that. Not when he'd finally gotten him back. He sighed and reached up, dragging Castiel back down by his elbow, this time cradling him to his own chest. "It's not like I planned it to happen."
Castiel mumbled something unhappily into his shirt. Dean chuckled a little, "Those aren't real words." Cas turned his head and tilted his head up, his warm breath brushing against the underside of Dean's chin.
"Shut up, Dean."
"Make me."
Castiel inched forward. His mouth hovered over Dean's adam's apple before he stuck out his tongue, moving up and licking at the hollow of his throat. Dean's breath stuttered as Cas nuzzled his head up, switching between nipping and small licks. With a small nudge Cas turned Dean's head to the side and grazed his teeth along the adjunct of his ear and jaw line. "Cas-"
"I said, shut up," Cas grumbled into his ear and then suckled along the edge.
"Whatever you say, boss." Dean responded with a grin on his face. He received a sharp nip on his jaw for his troubles.
Dean kept himself upright enough so that his burn wouldn't touch the mattress as he let Cas explore the side of his neck. Dean wished that Cas would just bite down but they both knew that wasn't a luxury they could have. He let one of his hands slip underneath the covers. While Castiel continued his gentle ministrations Dean ran his fingers through the trail of hair from his navel down and cupped himself through his sweatpants.
This was how their reunion should've gone in the first place.
He rubbed his thumb along his shaft as Cas angled himself further into Dean, his knee sliding over Dean's. The weight moved him to the side a little and on reflex he twitched further into Cas. He'd nearly rolled over onto his burn. Cas pulled back abruptly. His eyes were wide with worry despite the blazing heat in them.
"Dean- I'm sorry-"
"Oh no you don't," Dean groaned and lifted up. He put his hand on Cas' chest and pushed him over and to the side. He swung his leg over Cas body and slid down. Dean grinned as Castiel's hips bucked forward, his length rubbing against his ass through the thin clothing.
"De-an."
Dean chuckled and ground down again. There was a flutter in his stomach as Cas' hands flew up to his hips, keeping him still. "I thought-" Cas dipped his fingers underneath the edge of the pants and rolled his hips. "- you had an issue with this. Here."
"I nearly died," Dean countered, leaning down and whispering it against Cas' lips. Castiel's breath hitched and Dean didn't think it had anything to do with what they were doing. He chastised himself for bringing it up but he didn't have a filter. It was true enough. Emotions were tense and bottled up with both of them and he knew from first hand experience sex was a great stress relief. Especially when it mattered. "I'm sorry," he said slinking down a little and resting his lips against Cas', dropping kisses along his mouth.
"It's- it's fine," Cas sighed out. He lurched up a little and pulled Dean's lower lip between his teeth. He nipped and suckled at it until it was glistening wet and swollen.
"Come on," Dean coaxed, moving his hand away from his own cock and without warning sliding it under Cas' pants. He smirked as his fingertips touched Cas' soft and warm head. He scooted down Castiel's body until he was straddling his thighs. With a practiced motion he yanked his pants down and leaned down, pressing soft kisses along his shaft.
"Wait- Dean-," Castiel huffed out, hands now off of Dean's waist and clenched into the sheets.
Dean grumbled, low, and lifted his head, nuzzling Cas' cock with his cheek as he stared up. "What?"
"I haven't," Cas took in a deep breath. "STD test, I haven't had my last STD test."
"Fuck," Dean cursed and leaned back up. He looked down and ran his hand lazily up and down Castiel's length. He rubbed his thumb back and forth underneath the soft head, making Cas squirm. "We should get on that."
"Yes-Dean-," Castiel huffed and his hand left the rumbled sheets to wrap around Dean's own, stopping him. "We-we can't."
"Don't you have condoms?" Dean chuckled. Watching Cas writhe around underneath him was a power trip. He squeezed Cas' cock tightly and leaned down to blow hot air over the head. Castiel whined his name out. Dean lifted back up for only a moment and felt a swell of pride as Cas' hand dropped back down to the sheets. A thin film of sweat was starting to form on Castiel's skin and Dean bent to lick it off. He nibbled along the salty skin until he reached one of Cas' nipples. A wicked smile graced his lips as he licked over it before blowing a soft puff of air.
"Dean!" Cas protested as his nipple hardened.
"So, that condom?" Dean asked as swiped his thumb over Cas' spongy head. He smiled into his neck when he felt it come away sticky.
"I-I don't have any," Cas groaned out putting a hand between them.
"How do you not have any?" Dean asked, completely surprised. He pulled back and let all of his weight settle on Cas' thighs. He watched as Cas bit his lip and nibbled on it while he tried to collect his thoughts. His eyes scrunched close tight as he tried to gather self-control.
"I haven't had the need to."
"Haven't had the need to?"
Cas opened his eyes. They were glazed over with heat and want, and desperation. His hips jerked up and Dean grinned as his eyelids flickered open and closed as his cock slid in Dean's loose grip. "I haven't taken anyone to my bed since I moved into this apartment."
"Really?" Dean's breathing sped up and his blood pulsed. "Are we poppin' your bed's cherry, Cas?"
"Oh shut up," Cas grumbled. His already flushed cheeks flared a little darker.
"Tomorrow," Dean said, leaning back and pulling his own pants down. He smiled as Cas' eyes flew to his cock. Keeping his hand on Cas' shaft he used his other to stroke himself.
"Tomorrow what?" Castiel finally managed to stutter out, hypnotized by the synchronized up and down movements of Dean's hands. He moaned as Dean took his hands off, lapping his tongue over both palms before returning.
"Tomorrow-," Dean groaned out again. He fought the urge to touch their cocks together. The heat alone would probably be enough to get him to lose it but skin to skin was enough to pass something. He didn't think Cas had anything, if he'd really not invited anyone to his bed in so long. But for him there'd been at least a few drunken bar flings after he'd left Lisa and before he'd gotten with Cas. He'd rather be safe than sorry. "-tomorrow we get tested."
"Yes," Cas whispered and his hand shot up. His fingers wrapped around Dean's elbow and he tugged at it, trying to urge Dean to go faster.
"I don't know if that's a yes to getting tested-," Dean panted, "-or what I'm doing but- oh- I'm gonna go ahead and take it for both."
Cas nodded his head, eyes hooded, while his other hand reached out. Dean moved his own out of the way as Cas' warm palm wrapped around his cock. His breath hitched, Dean closed his eyes, bucking into the pressure "And condoms-we're getting condoms."
"Lick.".
Dean opened his eyes just as Cas took his hand back and leaned up. He held his palm inches from Dean's mouth. He smirked and gave Castiel a mischievous look before he dove in. Instead of getting the palm wet as he knew Cas had wanted him to do; he moved to the fingers. He sucked in Cas' index finger and suckled on it. His body froze underneath Dean and his breath started to come out in harsh pants. Dean smirked around the digit and lapped his tongue in patterns, pulling off and sucking the finger back down before moving onto the next. He moved his hand up and down Cas' cock to the same rhythm. Every time his tongue dipped between the crevices of Cas' digits he would drag his tongue over Cas' head and repeat the process until his thumb was wet with pre-come.
"Dean-Dean I can't," Cas whined, desperate. Dean merely chuckled darkly and renewed his efforts. Castiel's body was tight and hard underneath him. He wondered if he could get him trembling.
Dean let his free hand run into Cas' hair as he felt him tensing further underneath him. He carded his fingers gently through the curls before grasping tightly and yanking Cas' head back. His mouth immediately latched onto the exposed neck and he bit and sucked at it, Cas' moans vibrating in the room.
They'd both long forgotten about Sam and as Cas came with a violent cry. Dean thought he couldn't really care. Castiel collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving up and down heavily. His eyes were closed and his body was splayed out, arms stretched out and loose.
"Liked that, huh?" Dean asked, grinning.
Cas opened one eye and had to try three times to speak, his throat parched. "You're a bad man, Dean Winchester." His gaze drifted to Dean's still swollen cock. He attempted to lean forward but Dean shook his head.
"No."
Cas stared at him confused but Dean just spread himself out more comfortably across Cas' lap. He focused his gaze on the cooling mess that was splattered across Cas' abdomen and his own hand. He squeezed himself and began jerking his hand up and down as he took in the debouched man underneath him. "Fuck Cas," Dean swallowed and let the tip of his cock drag against Castiel's soft skin at his hip. "The way you look." Dean scooted up, knees widening more and more as he inched up Cas' torso.
"Open," Dean instructed.
Cas' expression was perplexed. They still hadn't gotten tested and there weren't any condoms.
"Trust me."
Cas' eyes darkened and with no hesitation his mouth opened. Dean groaned and kept himself from diving forward and shoving his entire length down to the back of Cas' throat. He bit his lip as his breathing grew harsher. He imagined those soft lips dragging up and down his cock, wrapped around the tip before Cas' tongue would dip in to lap pre-come out of him. "Fuck-Cas." Dean groaned and leaned back. "Shit-I'm gonna-fuck-" Dean brought up the hand, that was still wet with Cas' come, up and angled himself into it. His thighs shook with the effort to keep upright as hot spurts of come spilled from him and into his hand. It pooled at the center of his palm as Dean jerked himself through the last of his orgasm, finally settling down completely on Cas' abdomen.
"Jesus."
"Has no place in the bedroom."
"Don't be a brat, Cas," Dean panted out, grinning and trying not to laugh. He felt high. It wasn't until he'd recovered and opened his eyes that he'd noticed in trying to keep his balance he'd turned his palm over flat on Cas' chest. Their come was smeared across his chest. "My bad," Dean said with a sheepish grin.
Castiel shook his head and there was a soft laugh under his breath. Dean let himself be brought down willingly as Cas' hand wrapped around his neck. He angled himself so that Cas' soft cock was nestled in the crevice of his own hip while Dean let his lips be captured. He breathed out softly and chased Castiel's mouth as he tried to move away for air. They kissed slowly for a few minutes before Cas pushed Dean away.
"What? Why?" Dean complained.
"Clean up," Castiel countered as he examined the now dry patch on his chest.
"Spoil sport," Dean grumbled but rolled over obediently. He kept himself on his side as Cas crawled out of the bed, pulling his pants back up and tucking himself in safely. "I knew you slept without boxers," Dean teased.
Castiel gave him a half-heated glare as he collected tissues and wet wipes to clean them both off. When he came back and started to clean them off Dean felt a new type of heat course through him. It was softer but no less intense. Cas took care of them both carefully, rubbing down Dean's entire chest even though he hadn't gotten dirty. The way Cas' hands moved over his chest were reverent, almost worshiping. It felt like his heart had clogged up his throat when Cas finally finished. The dirty tissues were tossed into the nearby trash can without ceremony.
"Are you all right?"
Dean nodded and swallowed around the lump that seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. He let himself be guided down and rolled over so that he was sleeping with his head on Cas' chest. A part of him protested the position. It didn't feel very masculine.
"I don't want you rolling onto your burn," Castiel clarified as if he knew exactly what Dean had been thinking.
"Right," his voice was hoarse. "Thank you." He let himself relax back into the after sex buzz.
"Nyeh zuhshtoh."
Dean grinned into Cas' skin. "You're a dirty tease."
He could hear the smile in Castiel's voice as he spoke again, "Spokoynoy nochi, Dean."
"You're doing it again," Dean protested weakly as Cas ran his fingers along the unwounded skin on Dean's back.
He fell asleep to the sound of steady breathing and the rise and fall of a warm chest.
A/N: Have some sex. [/I tried] This was supposed to have a case in it so I don't end up with a billion chapters but I figure 23 pages is a good place to stop, huh? I didn't get too much feedback on the previous chapter but I'm publishing anyway since I'm actually ON SCHEDULE now. (Though publishing date has now moved from Friday's to Thursday's.) I had planned for 10 more, split evenly, but it looks like there'll be a few more than I anticipated.
Russian- Sweet Dreams / essentially 'don't worry about it' or 'no biggie'. 'it's nothing'. / Good night.
Still unbeta'd, I think I might actually start shopping around for a new beta. I don't think my old one will get back to me anytime soon. But the person offering beta position would have to be good at grammar and willing to go back through my unbeta'd chapters.